


None So Blind

by shadowolfhunter



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1992681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowolfhunter/pseuds/shadowolfhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny Williams is used to his partner's leap-before-look nature. After all, this is Super-SEAL they were talking about. So when Steve walks into a world of hurt, and a face-full of something noxious, it's down to Danny to steer his temporarily blinded partner right. Only Danny's already doing some steering of his own, through the minefield of his attraction to Steve.</p>
<p>Steve knows what he wants. And he thinks he knows what Danny wants too. If the evidence of his eyes hasn't helped him solve this conundrum so far, perhaps one of his other senses can chime in? Preferably before Steve screws this up and loses the best thing in his life. His partner, Danny Williams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This is fiction, therefore liberties are being taken with things medical. Please do not try this, or anything like this, at home.
> 
> Sadly neither Steve nor Danny come with ownership papers, at least they do, and I don't... own them that is. All scribblings are purely for entertainment purposes.

Some things Detective Danny Williams knows with certainty. That his daughter Grace is the light of his life, that his boss Lt Commander Steven McGarrett, USN, (super) SEAL is going to court disaster and in the course of courting that disaster, the aforementioned Super-SEAL is going to get his unfortunate partner (that would be Danny) shot at.

Danny had had something over four years to prepare himself for every possible eventuality as a consequence of Steve’s leap-first-look-afterwards policy.

This one was a new one.

His partner was sitting up on the hospital gurney, shifting impatiently. No surprise there, Steve hated hospitals, hated the drugs doctors prescribed as a perfectly reasonable consequences of the injuries he managed to accumulate.

Heaving a sigh Danny scrubbed a hand over his face, and scowled as Steve’s left hand drifted upwards. Danny’s right hand shot out like the strike of a viper and grabbed his partner’s wrist.

“48 hours Steve.” He turned his attention to the doctor who was unsuccessfully trying to suppress a smirk. “So, can I take him home?”

For a second the doctor looked torn between wanting to keep an eye on his patient, and peace and quiet. Peace and quiet won out. As Danny surely knew they would.

He cast his eyes heavenward and wondered what exactly he had done to deserve this, mentally replaying the morning’s events in his head.

Steve not waiting, Steve plowing straight through the swing doors after the fleeing suspect, and receiving the contents of a squeezy bottle of something right in the face. In the eyes to be exact.

Steve’s yelp of pain, Danny’s instinctive grab of his partner’s hands as they flew up to his face. Dragging a disorientated partner, with blurring vision over to the sink so that Danny could bathe his eyes and call for a bus.

Then this. The doctor had thoroughly irrigated his eyes, pronounced inflamed corneas, decreed that Steve needed to entirely rest his eyes for forty-eight hours. Steve not quite getting exactly what that meant, until the doctor made him lie back on the gurney, and proceeded to pad both eyes, and bandage the pads in place.

Forty-eight hours without his sight, Danny figured that he, Daniel Williams, must have done something appalling in his life somewhere.

“You’ve been extremely lucky, Commander McGarrett, it could have been so much worse.” _The quick thinking of your partner_ clearly implied.

Steve got it. Danny had saved him. Again.

He hated this, hated having to rely on his partner, be a burden. Danny’s grip on his wrist, firm, strong, decisive. That was something that Steve really loved about Danny. The man had moved six thousand miles from home to be with his daughter, instantaneous decision. Steve couldn’t imagine anyone actually doing that for him.

Danny listened to the instructions again, nodding when he felt he needed input. His hand was still wrapped around Steve’s wrist, his curled fingers nudging up against the beat of Steve’s pulse. Slightly elevated he thought, putting that down to Super-SEAL’s fight or flight response kicking in overtime.

The warmth of his partner’s hand around Steve’s wrist made things feel better. Steve tried to get his head around it, after so many years compartmentalizing everything, being a self-contained unit, he was coming round to the realization that he had a family. Something that had been missing from his life.

Coming around to the realization that the evidence of his eyes was far from his only sense.

Touch. Danny’s hand on his wrist, the warmth of Danny’s palm over the back of his wrist, Danny’s fingers curled, tips against the soft inside skin, Steve could feel them resting against his pulse. Firm but gentle. That had to mean something.

Steve eased to the floor. It was weird without sight, but Danny’s firm hold on his wrist grounded him.

“Ready to go?” Steve could feel the tension, could sense Danny storing up a rant, could feel it shiver beneath the skin, as though it was going to break out any second.

Unsure how to respond, because touch was a less certain art than sight, Steve nodded, “yeah.”

Danny rolled his eyes a little. Okay, perhaps that was a little unfair, but… He shook his head, and tugged on Steve’s wrist. “Let’s go then.” He got them started for the exit, Steve following docilely, which was wrong all by itself. Docile and Steven J McGarrett didn’t belong in the same sentence, but somehow they would get through this with Danny’s dignity intact.


	2. Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve contemplates two of his biggest fears. One means more than the other.

Steve McGarrett fears very little. It’s not because (as Danny says) that he’s dumb and has the self-preservation instincts of a lemming, it’s because he has faith in himself. After all, precious few people have ever given Steven the impression that he can have faith in them.

If he’s honest with himself, and Steve’s had to be brutally, painfully, unhappily honest with himself here, every freakin’ person in his life has lied to him at some time or another. Every One.

Except Danny.

Danny’s been brutally, ruthlessly, unrelentingly and even lovingly honest with Steve. If it’s on his mind, it comes out of his mouth. Pure, completely unfiltered. Unadulterated Danny. It’s explosive (and the little boy in Steve still craves explosions) and razor sharp, so sharp you could cut yourself, and Steven J McGarrett has never been one for self-immolation, but he relishes the sharpness of the cuts of Danny’s temper.

He finds himself pushing those buttons. And it’s so very, very easy. Steve’s exceptionally honed instincts are a law unto themselves. Not actually the law. Danny points this out so frequently that Steve’s even learned Miranda, by osmosis… (and who the hell is Miranda… damn, really old joke).

So Steve’s not afraid of anything.

Until he is.

He sits on the edge of the couch, every humming inch of his over-wound body aching with the need to be doing.

Except he can’t see. He’s been blind for less than an afternoon and he’s already climbing the walls.

It’s not even the blindness imposed by the bandages over his eyes, or the pain that stabs a little every ten minutes or so, it’s not even Danny seeing him in this condition. Danny’s seen Steve butt-naked. Danny’s flown halfway around the world to rescue Steve from the Taliban for heaven’s sake. There is literally nothing that Danny wouldn’t do for Steve. Steve knows this, Danny knows that Steve would do absolutely anything for Danny too.

Steve has told Danny that he loves him. Twice. Okay more than twice. In fact he’s marginally ahead on the love declarations because that bomb that brought the building down on top of them nearly killed Danny, and Steve had to hurt Danny to save his life, and Danny was predictably not cool with that.

They’ve even engaged in a heart-felt hug that went on way too long for hetero-normative safety, where’s Steve’s hand engaged in a will of it’s own and lovingly caressed the back of Danny’s head.

None of this unnerves Steve.

The idea that he may still be blind when the bandages come off.

That scares Steve shitless.

“Steve.” Danny’s voice sounds close by and Steve is torn by his needs and feelings. He wants to burrow into Danny’s close embrace and never let go. And even that is less scary than the thought that Danny might leave him if he’s still blind.

Because losing Danny will kill him.

Steve doesn’t need added melodrama. That’s a simple, honest fact.

Then Danny’s hand is on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve’s fingers are slotting over Danny’s and holding on so tight.

Touch. Steve can rely on touch. Without the use of his eyes, the SEAL can map out his certainty on Danny Williams.


	3. Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tentative manœuvres in the dark.

Danny Williams respects his partner, he really does. What’s more he loves that crazy, mixed-up super-SEAL with his honor, and his craziness, and his goddamn cloak of invincibility only works about 55% of the time. But beyond yelling at him, Danny finds it very difficult to actually articulate that love, unless he’s ranting. He’s fairly certain that Steve knows about the love. Maybe.

Borrowing a line from a movie, Steve is a Goddamn American Jedi, though it kills Danny to admit it. Because, face it, admitting to Steve that he, Danno, would in anyway endorse Steve’s wild behavior would give said Super-SEAL the impression that Danny is actually down with his risky moves.

Basically, Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett, he of the thousand different faces, and that really rare, sweet, shy smile that lights up Steve’s handsome face in a very special way for Danny... Well, Danny loves his big lug, even though he is completely convinced that Commander McGarrett will be the stress-related death of him. Moments over the last four years where Danny has scrubbed his hands through his hair and wondered if Max will be scribbling Steve McGarrett in the space provided for cause of death on Danny’s death certificate.

Then there were moments like these. Steve McGarrett, the man who was literally unfazed by anything, sitting scared and lost on the edge of his bed.

The kind of moments which melt Danny right down to his toenails. Not that he is ever going to admit that.

“Steve.” He says, and puts a reassuring hand on his partner’s arm.

“Danny.” There’s a hint of shakiness to Steve’s voice, and he moves then, wraps around his partner by instinct alone.

Danny squirms a little so that he can return the favour, wrapping his arms tight around Steve’s body. Steve buries his face in the place where Danny’s neck joins his shoulder. He feels Steve’s lips brush his collarbone.

Danny’s heart sinks a little, he loves Steve, he really does, but he’s not sure of how Steve feels towards him on an intimate level, and it’s not as though he can just find out. Steve’s Navy. Okay, Reserves, but still Navy and even though DADT is no more, Danny can’t just swoop in.

Steve feels Danny surround him. Any other person moved in like this, and Steve’s panic buttons would be well and truly pushed. Danny was just different. 

Steve burrowed closer and breathed in pure essence of best friend. The guy who meant the world to Steve, he just wishes he could find the words to tell Danny the truth.

Danny smoothes his hand up and down Steve’s back. Loving this contact between them. Feeling a tiny bit guilty, because this is something he should be able to do when Steve’s eyes are not bandaged and there are no injuries to comfort each other over.

It’s a cliché, but Steve can feel Danny’s love in his touch. Steve’s fingers have developed a life of their own, his brain’s saying no, but his heart and his fingers are crying out YES, YES, YES.

Steve’s right hand navigates slowly down Danny’s rib cage, caresses his body through Danny’s shirt, and slips down to his waistband.

“Babe.” Danny’s voice is husky, and hesitant, and Steve cannot see his expression, so Steve’s fingers continue their slow slide beneath the hem of Danny’s shirt. He can feel the quiver of Danny’s taut, well-muscled flesh, hear the hitch in his breathing and Danny could stop him any time.

But Danny doesn’t.

It feels so good, Steve has Danny mapped out in his mind, but the reality of touch is so much better.

A hand curves around his cheek so gently that Steve almost misses it, he pulls back a little, aware of their closeness. 

“What am I going to do with you?” It’s a breath, a whisper; despite the wrap-enforced blindness, Steve moves in. He’s done with this slow dance they’ve been doing for what seems like forever, he needs and loves his Danno.

Their lips meet.

It’s a negotiation, a ritual dance between lovers. Give and take, and taking what’s being given, Danny’s hand caresses the back of Steve’s head, so sweet and true and kind that Steve’s breaking apart inside, the thing he’s wanted for so long surging up within him.

They ease apart for a little air.

“Don’t think this is what Doc had in mind when he said rest.” It comes out shaky and Steve knows how much this touch has affected Danny. 

Steve shakes his head. Temporary blindness offers him the opportunity to pursue his heart’s desire. Steve has no intention of letting go now. “Danny.” Whatever he was going to say next sticks in his mind, but Danny understands anyway.

Steve knows he does, by touch alone.


End file.
